Story of an Angel: Guardian of Man
by BrownEyedGrl97
Summary: Alexandra is an Angel of the Lord. Before The Fall, she was a guardian. Now that she is forced on Earth, she has made it her mission to find the Winchesters for unknown causes. However, she may find it difficult to adjust to human life. (This is a story with a new character of my making.)


**Okay so I've been wanting to do a Supernatural fanfiction for a while and this one is not exactly traditional. It is not the usual Destiel or Sabriel fiction. It involves a new character of my creation. This first part is an introduction, and, though lengthy, I could not think of another way to start the story. The story will eventually include Sam and Dean and Castiel, so don't worry. The character I describe in this first chapter is only a part of the introductory. Her point of view is not used again. Hopefully you can stick with my low writing skills and, at times, slow plot. Enjoy!**

**Chapter One**

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><p>Rachel Harris awoke with a start to the sound of her radio blasting "Stairway to Heaven". "Note to self," she grumbled, pulling the covers over her head, "change alarm to any station besides classic rock." She groaned as she blindly tried to reach out and turn off the guitar solo. Giving up, she turned to her next best option: press a pillow on top of her face and hopefully suffocate herself. A tug at her leg snapped her back to consciousness again. "Note to self: kill the dog," she moaned as she rolled herself out of bed. Or at least tried to; she became tangled in the covers and tumbled over the edge. A muffled yelp told her that she may have indeed succeeded in killing the dog. Rachel struggled painfully to get up and was awarded with the sight of her small Jack Russell staring at her and wagging his tail.<p>

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Breakfast. I'm on it," she told him. She reached over to her radio to turn it off but paused. "Hey Jude" had come on. "You win this time classic station," she said with narrowed eyes. It would be blasphemy to turn off the Beatles.

Rachel took a few steps away from her bed and stood in front of the fridge. "What shall it be today Lou? Cereal or toast?" She sniffed the milk and recoiled. "Toast it is." She looked in the pantry. "Dry cereal it is. Note to self: buy food." She stuffed Fruit Loops in her mouth and hurried to fill Lou's bowl. He wolfed down his kibble as she stuffed her face again and filled his water bowl.

"Geez, learn some manners you Neanderthal," she said with her mouth full. Forgetting her recent discovery, she took a swig from the milk jug and quickly spewed it all over the front of her shirt.

"Aw come on! This is my favorite oversized t-shirt!" she complained as she set the milk down. She took off the shirt and threw it into the pile in the corner of the room. A quick shower and singing montage later, she found herself in front of her closet and mirror.

"Let's see here. Red shirt with a mustard stain on the collar, or red shirt with a hole in the boob?" she asked Lou, holding the two shirts up in front of her. He lifted his ears and tilted his head to the left.

"Mustard stain it is," she said as she tossed the other one back in and pulled on the shirt and some khakis. The local supermarket she worked at had a dress code. "Well, here's to another day of monotonous tasks and customer stupidity," she told him as she lifted the milk up. She coughed it up into the sink this time. "Man, I've really got to throw you away," she said as she set it back in the fridge absent-mindedly.

Rachel struggled to open the door to her apartment; finally it opened after several kicks, pulling, and cursing. She stepped into the hallway and found herself face to face with a sullen looking old woman with a cigarette in hand.

"Trying to sneak out again I see," the woman rasped.

"Nope, No sneaking. Just going to work," Rachel answered with a strained smile. Miss Travis was the landlady of the old, run-down building. "You're late on your rent. Again," Travis barked.

"And that," Rachel began as she tried to slip around the woman, "is why I am going to work. I promise to have your money by tomorrow." She tried to hurry away, but as she began her descent down the stairs, she heard Miss Travis yell down, "I heard that damn dog yipping this morning! If he keeps disturbing the other residents, I'll personally put him down!"

"Mrs. O'Connell has four screaming children that never shut up, yet you never threaten to put them down," Rachel murmured to herself. She hurried out to the parking lot to her shabby little car and struggled to get yet another door open. Flecks of blue paint came off the car as she pulled on the handle. "Come on!" Rachel grunted, and, with a sudden burst of strength, yanked the door open. She whooped at her success and ducked into the car. Her cheer quickly turned into a yell when she slammed the door closed and a crack appeared on the window. "You have got to be kidding me!" she shouted between curses. After a well-deserved fit, she decided to ignore the crack and get to work before she was late again. The blue Volkswagen begrudgingly obliged. Rachel let a slow breath out as she sped (or at least the car's version of speeding) down the road. This day was going to be worse than the others. She just knew it. She saw her bible sitting on the other seat and smiled. At least there was one stable thing in her life.

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><p>Work started off just like any other day. Rachel stood sullenly behind the cash register or stoically stocked shelves. Her manager, Christy, would walk by every few minutes to glare at her and make sure she was working. Around lunch, however, the local teenagers decided to show up. Marcus Eccelston and his crew of troublemakers. Or the dickheads of Bryor County, as Rachel liked to call them.<p>

She tensed up when they slunk threw the doors, keeping a careful eye on them. These teenagers usually meant trouble for her. A feeling that was all too familiar in high school settled into her stomach. _You are 21 years old. You are an adult. Do not let these miscreants intimidate you._ Of course, being five-foot-three and having an innocent face with frizzy/curly chestnut hair, most people mistook her for a high-school-er, and the teenagers did intimidate her. Every time they made fun of her or pranked her on the streets or in the store, she was teleported back to the hallways of Greenbow High. She noticed Marcus smirking at her and nudge one of his buddies.

_Just try something you little shi-,_"Excuse me. Ma'am?" Rachel's thought was cut off as an elderly woman stepped into view. "Yes ma'am? How may I help you?" she said in a strained cheerfulness. In answer, the woman set her groceries on the register. Rachel began the monotonous task of scanning items. A small cough made her look up. The woman's face was pinched into a look of annoyance. "Ma'am?" Rachel inquired.

"Those potatoes are not $3.75," the lady harrumphed. Rachel looked down at the price tag that distinctly said that the potatoes were $3.75. She told the woman so.

"No, no. You see, this magazine says they are only $2.98," the woman countered. Rachel looked closely. The old bag was looking at another store's magazine. "I'm sorry, that isn't for this store," Rachel said politely. The old woman grew huffy. She began to say something when Rachel felt something hit her cheek. Something wet. Peering down she saw a wad of paper. _What the hell- _Another wet sphere hit her. The lady hadn't noticed and continued to rant. Rachel peered around the woman and saw the reason for the spitballs. Two teenagers snickered behind a display, one holding a straw and paper. Rachel gripped the cross she wore around her neck to try and control her feelings. _Be kind to thy- _Her thought was interrupted again by a glob of saliva.

"And it says here that you will compare prices for," the woman continued. "That is for Wal-Mart. We do not compare prices here," Rachel answered in a strained voice. Her nails were digging into her skin she was gripping the cross so hard. _Be kind to the lady. Ignore the teenagers. _She chanted to herself. Another spitball barely missed her and the old woman began to raise her voice. A ringing sounded in Rachel's ears. _Be kind to the hag and strangle the little fuckers later. _The woman continued to rant. Rachel noticed that her wrinkles flapped around her mouth whenever she spit out words. She tried to calm herself. It was just a bad day in a long line of bad days. _Think of your verses. _She gripped the cross even tighter. _Don't think about your shitty job, or your bitchy manager, or the disrespectful teenagers, or rude customers, or sucky living arrangements, or being a college dropout, or dead parents, or- _Another spitball hit her, this time right between the eyes. She finally cracked.

"LISTEN HERE YOU MOTHERFUC-" Rachel stopped mid-sentence. The elderly woman was in shock, her mouth gaping open and her eyes wide. Marcus and his gang stopped and stared at her and then the lady and then to the right and back. Oh God. The woman thought Rachel was yelling at her. The blood drained from her face. She was too loud. Before she could even think of apologizing...

"Ms. Harris! What do you think you're doing!" Damn. Christy was standing next to the register line, her face nearly purple as she glared at Rachel. "I-" There was no valid argument. The kids were hidden from view and were already heading out the door with smirks lingering on their lips.

"Out. Now." Rachel stared at the blond woman for a second before it dawned on her what she was saying. She removed her name tag and stiffly headed for the exit. She closed the car door before she had to hear the laughter of the boys. Her demeanor had completely changed. Rachel no longer felt like joking, or cursing the things or people who wronged her. She feared a relapse may be coming. She bowed her and for a second before popping back up. She would not allow any thoughts. She needed to go to the only place that may help her gather her thoughts.

The church was like any other. Tall stain glass windows. Rows upon rows of pews. A cross at the front. _I just got fired from the only job in town that would hire me. I have no way to pay rent. No friends or family to comfort me. I only have you. _She bowed her head. _I am sorry for my outburst._ She didn't know how to continue. Guilt ran through her veins for her wrongdoings. She looked up at a statue of an angel at the front.

"Please," she whispered aloud, "I don't want to live like this anymore. Please. Tell me what to do. Guide me." She began to close her eyes, but they snapped back open. Rachel blinked a couple of times. Then rubbed her eyes. Then blinked some more. She could have sworn the angel had started to glow. Unnerved, she left the church before the statue did anything else. The car clambered down the road, barely making it to thirty miles and hour. She pulled into her apartment's parking lot. The rust-on-wheels sputtered for a moment then made an screeching sound and stopped altogether. Rachel blinked against the glare of the evening sun and stared at the dashboard for a second. Anger filled her again and tears clouded her eyes. She gruffly opened the door and got out and planned to slam the damn thing then walk away with a little bit of dignity. Instead when she slammed the door, the crack in the window finally burst and glass flew everywhere. Rachel lost her balance from the surprise of the explosion and grabbed the side of the door. Pain stabbed through her hand and the glass became tinged with blood. She cursed louder than ever and hurried inside.

She stomped into her apartment and slammed the door (thankfully it did not shatter as well). Rachel didn't care anymore what the landlady thought. She ran to the bathroom and looked in the cabinet for a bandage. Not even the dog dared to greet her as she cursed and rummaged. Just as she resolved to using toilet paper, a thought was whispered into her ear. _Run your hand under the water. _Rachel turned on the sink and watched as the water ran pink. Just as she was about to remove her hand another whisper came. _No. Trust me. Keep your hand under until I say otherwise. _The voice brought a feeling of peace and Rachel didn't question it. She continued to watch the water flow until it remained clear after hitting her palm. _Now._ Rachel removed her hand and gasped.

The deep cut was gone. She couldn't even feel any pain. What was going on?

The lights began to flicker in the bathroom. Dazed, Rachel headed into the other room. The lights began to flicker in there as well. A low ringing filled the air and Rachel checked her ears to try to get rid of it. The t.v. turned on to static and the lights seemed to grow brighter in between flickers. The ringing was becoming louder, filling Rachel's entire body with the sound. The lights were becoming even brighter. She threw her hands over her ears as the sound became unbearable. She fell to her knees as a voice reverberated within her skull.

_Do not fear young Rachel Harris. I am here to answer your wishes. I can take you away from this life._

Rachel doubled over in pain as the ringing continued. She squinted into the light and ducked just in time as the mirror above her bed exploded. "What are you!" she screeched into the air.

_My name is Alexandra. I am an Angel of the Lord. You have been in despair for years, and I am here to help. All I ask of you, is for you to say yes._

"Say yes to what?!" Rachel looked up into the now blazing light. Her eyes now full of awe.

_I need a vessel. You are a devoted follower. Your body is one of the few that would be able to hold me. I can only enter, however, if you say yes. Before you answer, I must warn you. It will not be easy. I will have full control of your body. My thoughts will inhabit yours. Your memories will be mine. You will only be able to observe when I allow you to. These are the burdens of accepting me._

The voice, Alexandra, was growing louder until it blocked out the ringing. Rachel's eyes fill with tears again as she stared at the brightness surrounding her. All of the events that led up to this moment replayed in her mind as she thought of what the angel was telling her. Giving her body as a vessel. Rachel closed her eyes. This was her way out. _Yes._

The world became unbearably bright and the ringing encompassed everything. Rachel a sudden warmth behind her eyes. It trickled into her chest. It was comforting, it was blessed peace it was...burning. Pain. Agony. She was on fire. She was

Gone.

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><p><strong>Like I said. A little lengthy and unclear at this point. There is more to the story, but I sometimes have trouble getting details in :**

**I would to hear feedback! This is only my second story and I'm still learning. Thanks for reading!**


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